Sticky Situations
by Merry Faerie
Summary: In the 1930's, a nightclub singer entrances a handsome, by-the-book audience member. And only one thing is certain: all hell will break loose. Written for the Shitennou Challenge 2009. Mina/Kunzite


Notes: I started off trying to write this as a screwball comedy on paper, but then it evolved into something…different. But just so you know, the screwball comedy movies of the 1930's and 40's (Vivacious Lady, The Palm Beach Story, The Good Fairy, It Happened One Night, Midnight, The More the Merrier, etc.) were sassy "sex comedies without the sex" that, among other things, were situational comedies of marriage and whatnot and lightheartedly showed the divisions between the upper and lower classes. If ever you find the time, check the aforementioned titles out!

***  
"Honey, my friend's lap is no landing zone."

By this time, Kenneth had come to the conclusion that there was no dignified way to spit pink boa feathers out of one's mouth. He spat anyway. And looked very undignified doing it.

Meanwhile, the girl took Zachary's subtle hint and vacated the warm seat that was Kenneth's lap. As Kenneth adjusted his ratty bow tie, the dance girl traced her boa along the white-robed table's edge, stopping inches away from where Zachary's elbow rested.

"Now haven't you fellas come here for some entertainment?" she asked out of a pair of petulant lips.

Having recovered a few shreds of dignity, Kenneth replied. "No."

Zachary beckoned the girl to bend her pin-curled head closer to his sand-blonde one. "But here's another hint: unlike Ken's lap, mine's practically Kitty Hawk, North Carolina."

She laughed out of kohl-rimmed eyes. "Oh go on."

"Yes, please, do go on – and away," Kenneth muttered so only Zachary could hear.

As if in answer to Kenneth's plea, the Manhattan nightclub's lights dimmed. "That's my cue. But maybe I'll have some time for you later, huh sugar?" The nameless girl fluttered a provocative boa at Zachary before winding through the other tables and into a dressing room, her feathered outfit bouncing and sparkling along with her.

Zach watched her go. "What a pretty little body-hugging number. And I don't mean her dress."

Kenneth kept his thoughts to himself. After handing the remains of his dinner to a passing waiter, he spoke up: "Zachary, may I remind you that tonight's my night off?"

The blonde swiveled his head to look at his best friend. "What do you mean?"

"I can't waste my time babysitting you. It might be hard to believe, but I haven't exactly liked spending my nights rescuing you from-" Kenneth ticked them off on his fingers—"four elopements, three indiscretions, and five drunken brawls."

"Hold on, did you say four elopements? … I'm slipping."

"Like wax on tile." Kenneth rolled his eyes.

"And another thing – why would you save me from an indiscretion? And you call yourself my friend." Zachary cut himself off when he saw the sudden stiffness around Kenneth's mouth.

He turned to the slightly raised platform – and raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

"Miss Mina Atkins, ladies and gentlemen!"

The voices of the singer and piano seemed to envelop Kenneth, surround him, and pin his silvery-green eyes to the woman on stage. Lit by a soft spotlight, her gold lame gown and milk-white skin shone against the club's peacock interior. Her voice was sugar-fine and rich like molasses.

A stocky man seated at the next table noted Kenneth's interest and, with a leering grin, leaned over. "Fine girl, eh? What a doll."

Kenneth did not bother to reply.

Zachary thought it only polite to make Ken's excuses. "Sorry about that, my friend has a hearing condition. Very recent," he whispered.

"Ooh."

"Oh and the girl"—Zach jabbed a thumb towards her—"You should see her in a bathing suit. Real knock-out," he assured the stranger.

Without tearing his gaze from the singer, Ken gave Zachary his own version of a "knock-out" by promptly punching him in the shoulder.

"Ow! What, do you disagree?"

The light jazzy piano notes died down in unison with the girl's smiling voice.

The stranger, a rosy-cheeked, bearded man cocked an eyebrow at the two men by his table. "Say, do you know her?" he called over the applause.

Kenneth stood just before the lights came back on and the sunny-faced singer had thanked the audience. "Oh, not really. She's just my wife."

After shooting the speechless man a grin, Zachary jogged after Ken's tuxedoed figure.

As he ran an awed eye over the bathroom's marble sinks and gold-framed mirrors, Zachary brought Kenneth up to date with the situation.

"From what the bartender told me…"

"—Always a reliable source—"

"Mina's been working at this swanky place for three weeks now. I'd say she's been in New York the whole time."

"She has." All the telegrams had spoken of a "faster life" and "loads of new opportunities." And they'd all ended with: "Don't worry about me. Stop. I'm just fine. Stop."

"She's already pretty popular here." Zachary hesitated for a moment.

"With the male crowd, you mean?" Kenneth asked nonchalantly.

Silence.

"Then her little plan seems to be going well. She's not engaged yet, is she?"

"Christ, she's no bigamist, Ken!" his friend exclaimed.

"So, she's not engaged?" the other man persisted.

"I…"

"You don't know: right." Kenneth fished a dime from his pocket and handed it to Zachary as they walked out.

"What's this?"

"You wanted to make a phone call to your girlfriend, didn't you?"

"More like she'll yell my head off if I don't." The bitterness was not lost on Kenneth. "But we have more imp-…"

"So go, and I'll wait outside."

The golden-haired man instead followed his companion out the glass doors, saying: "Damn it, Ken, did you come all the way here so you could pay to watch your wife sing and dance? Were you planning to just leave all along? No thanks," he grumbled when Kenneth offered him a cigarette. By this time they were standing outside the entrance of "The Hummingbird."

Ken snapped his cigarette case shut, not bothering to get one for himself. "I came to make sure she was all right. I had an idea I could persuade her to come back, but she looks to be hap—"

"So you'll give her the divorce, huh? If she marries some old, cigar-smoking millionaire that's just dandy, is it?"

"I don't see what his smoking habits have to do with it."

Zachary gave an annoyed grunt. He looked at his stubborn friend, who leaned against the wall looking just as cool and unruffled as ever. "Ken, don't tell me this is about the money."

"Of course it's not." Kenneth's jaw clenched at the idea and the word "money."

She'd left him because of money. But flighty as his wife clearly was, her intentions were—once you'd sorted through the hare-brained schemes—good. At his job as a law clerk, he'd made enough to support them, though never enough for the luxuries he knew she secretly longed for. Then his mother had fallen ill and no matter what he did, he had no way of paying for the necessary medications, nor the surgery that would follow. So Mina had decided that she was burdening her husband. In her mind, the only solution was for her to divorce him and marry a wealthy man who could give her an allowance—which she could then send back to Kenneth.

"That's idiotic, Mina," he'd told her frankly.

"It's not! Girls do it all the time."

"Oh? So Lita actually has an ex-husband who she sends Nathan's money to every week?"

"Don't be silly, I didn't say every girl does it."

"Now I'm the one being silly," Kenneth murmured under his breath. Aloud: "Mina, let's drop it. Mr. Coleman says things could be looking up for me at the office. If I give it a few—"

"Could, maybe, if!" she responded impassionedly. "That's not enough! Ken, I want you to be happy again and I want your mother to get well and I'm just getting in the way! Look, darling, give me the divorce," she pleaded, dropping onto the sofa beside him. She grasped his knee and looked up at him. "You could do better than this. Better than me."

Kenneth had listened to all this in silence. Now, gently but firmly, he took her chin between his fingers and leveled his clear green eyes at her. "So," he said, his voice low and soft, "You simply don't love me anymore?"

She visibly swallowed. Her body leaned forward, ever-so-slightly into his touch. But just when he saw her waver, just as his arms began to steal around her, she'd stood up violently, knocking the violets on the side table over as she did so.

"Oops! Oh look what you did," she accused.

Her husband could only roll his eyes.

"I'm going to bed." Ken was tempted to repeat the rolling of the eyes. She seemed to be under the impression that she could escape him and the discussion by retreating to the bedroom that they both slept in.

She paused on the staircase and gripped the railing. "Whether or not I love you has nothing to do with it. We– we have to be realistic, Ken."

He'd remained on the sofa, face expressionless, but mind in a whirl. Mina, the girl who mooned over Cinderella stories, the sentimental romance-lover who'd courted him (because, if he was honest, she had been the one to do the courting), had turned frighteningly practical in the past few months. And, ironically enough, it was that practicality, that need to be "realistic" that would drive her to flee Boston and carry out the most ridiculous scheme of all, one that could rival those the heiresses in the pictures came up with.

He'd received divorce papers in the mail, but hadn't signed them. He had also received telegrams, letters from her, and money, the latter of which worried him most. The letters were postmarked in Boston itself, but to his disgust he traced them back to Lita. Mina had apparently relayed her messages to Lita over the phone and wired her the money for Kenneth.

He wouldn't use the money. He wasn't going to touch some lecherous millionaire's money gained by who knew what means.

He'd scoured Boston, alerted the police, traveled all over New England. But it was Zachary who finally heard of her whereabouts while visiting relatives in New York. One telegram and half a day later, Ken arrived in the Big Apple.

"Ken?"

Startled out of his reverie, he met Zachary's eyes. Ken then said: "She's gone back to her maiden name."

Stupid of Zach to think that detail had escaped Kenneth's notice.

"Only so we wouldn't be able to find her so easily," he reasoned.

"Or so she could find herself some boyfriends without my surname dragging her down."

In an earnest tone, Zachary said, "Don't you at least want to see her? Make sure that she is happy? She has no friends, no family, no one to depend on, only her looks and se—"

"All right," Ken cut the melodramatic rant short. "I'll go back inside."

Zachary flashed him a megawatt grin. "Good man." Before Ken could leave though… "Do you need help? Or a plan of attack? Because I was thinking that if we dressed up as cabaret dancers we could easily infiltrate the dressing room, rather like Cary Grant in—."

Ken turned on his heel, reminding himself not to let either Mina or Zachary near a movie theater for the rest of their lives.

~*~

"Oh boy, Miss Mina, you were wonderful up there tonight. You looked even prettier than the last time I saw you perform."

"Really? I've gotten prettier since last night?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," sighed the youth as he gave Mina a slavish look.

A man who, with his cigar and flourishing moustache, looked more the pompous gentleman, cut in. "Imagine now Mina, what our May wedding would be like," he urged as, fervently, he took her hand in his.

Another man interrupted: "I wouldn't imagine it, Mina, unless you want to see your lunch again."

"Ahaha, you must be the laughing stock of the shoe store you work in. Why don't you get an autograph, and, as they say, get out of our hair?"

"I would, but I'm having trouble finding any hair on your head grandpa."

"Very clever, Mr. … Feet, was it? Or Meat?"

"I'll thank you to remember that my name's—"

"Ken!" The men clustered around the table stopped short when their idol jumped out of her chair, eyes fixed on someone who'd just entered the dining room.

In spite of himself, Ken had to fight to keep an amused smile off his face when he saw his wife running towards him, pure pleasure shining in her eyes. For all the subterfuges and sad schemes she'd tossed at him, in spite of the hell she'd put him through, he couldn't feel any rancorous emotion when she threw herself onto his chest. He felt only her and her light embracing him.

And he knew then that even if she'd abandoned him and their marriage, her feelings for him were the same as they'd always been. She was still his Mina.

"Oh, Ken," she sighed into his neck, her arms wrapped tightly around it. He had inadvertently answered her embrace by pulling her closer to his body. "I've—"

"AHEM."

Then the light leapt out of his arms and sprang from her face. Pasting on a china doll smile she faced the handful of men who were staring at Kenneth like the proverbial bull at the red cape.

She seemed hardly conscious of the sudden artificiality of her tone as she said: "Oh, Ken, these are some friends of mine. Mr. Harding, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Jones … etc," she ended when she saw that none of the men wished to acquaint themselves with this new, sinfully handsome man.

"Now, now, don't look at him like that, sillies; this is my… my… cousin!" She looked triumphant at her quick thinking.

The men at the table relaxed at this information. For his part, Ken withdrew his hands from Mina's waist.

"Yes, everyone meet um, Ken…uh—" her eye landed on something on the table, "Pen!"

Kenneth didn't bat an eye at this spur-of-the-moment christening.

"Yessir, Kenneth Pen," Mina clarified sunnily.

Kenneth saw that there was nothing for it than to play along. "Mina, I trust you're doing alright? I was disappointed that you didn't meet me at the train station."

"I'm j-just… fine, Ken." She appeared to find it difficult to meet his steely green gaze. "But you know how busy I've been."

"Do I?"

"Of course, you joker."

His grim face could never be mistaken for that of a joker. "And how's Uncle Jamie?" he continued.

"Eh, as far as I know," she began guiltily, since her widower father had no idea about her running away, "Daddy has been spending all his nights at clubs and parties. He's playing the field even more than his daughter."

She flashed a grin at the men, and they all nudged each other companionably, worshipful looks on their faces when they turned back to the songbird.

"Difficult to believe," Kenneth replied with measured sweetness.

Mina hurriedly looked down. "Have you eaten, Ken? Should I order something for you? They have wonderful lobst—"

"No thank you, I had the wonderful shrimp with the wonderful wild rice already. Don't worry about me," he said colorlessly.

She appeared cast down at this response, but still had one more question to ask. It appeared to be the most important of all. "And how's um, Aunt Lucille?" she asked in earnest concern.

He gazed down at her, before softening as he was wont to do when met with Mina's effortlessly melting, loving looks.

"Wonderful," he said of his mother.

"Really?"

"You know," said a loud and belated voice, "I think they overcook the shrimp here—don't you? It's not so wonderful." This opinionated man regretted his grand words when he realized the club manager had heard and was nailing him with a glowering look.

Eyebrow arched, Kenneth lowered his voice to whisper, "Well really, I'm your cousin; why is he still competing with me?"

Mina smiled up at him. "Because you're still intimidating, darling," she said easily.

Kenneth was careful not to respond to the unconsciously spoken term of endearment.

"Ken, how about we talk in private? Sorry boys, but family first you know." She smiled graciously and with a little grumbling, the other men trailed out, the stately gentleman pausing to kiss Mina's hand goodbye. "Think of our wedding once more Mina. Visualize it. 'Twill be grand, will it not?"

"Goodbye Jeffrey," she sang.

Ken gave no indication of shock at the news of Mina's upcoming wedding, except by a whitening around his mouth. His hard green eyes followed Jeffrey as he retrieved his hat and coat. This scrutiny came to an end when Mina hurriedly ushered Ken into her dressing room, which was decorated in pastel pinks and blues.

"I'm so glad you used the money I sent, Ken," she sighed, wearing a proud smile.

He automatically moved his gaze to her heart-detailed vanity. "I didn't."

She gaped. "But—but, you said Mother was alright now!"

"Thank you kindly, my mother is fine." He stared straight ahead. "She had the operation."

"Then how did you manage to pay for it?"

"I won it at the racetrack after Nathan bugged the heck out of me to play."

"Well that was unexpected." She paused, when stricken by a thought. "WHY didn't you use the money I sent you?" Fired up now: "Are you too good to use money your wife earns?"

"No, nothing like that; I just didn't know where you got it from."

"Well, now you do!" She paused again, wondering if she'd made the point she wasn't sure she'd been trying to make. "How'd you find me?"

"Zach saw the headlining poster of you outside the club."

"Oh no! … I look so bony in that picture."

"Yes, that was my first thought when I saw it," Kenneth admitted solemnly.

Mina's laughing smile appeared in a wink. "Liar."

"Oh no, really. Especially, your hips." He glanced at those same curvy hips, which the shimmering gold fabric clung to so admirably.

"My hips are bony?"

"Mm."

"The boys don't seem to think so," she casually commented, peering up at him from under gold eyelashes as she said it. He saw her steal the look, but then recalled everything that he'd suspected about those "boys", everything that appeared to be … utterly true.

"It's lovely to see you Ken," she added warmly, hands outstretched so she could rest them on his clasped ones.

"I'm glad you think so. I'm happy to see your charming self as well," he said stiffly.

Instead of flinching at the irony in his voice, she tightened her hold on his hands. "Did you hear me sing?" she asked.

He nodded. "I did. Very pretty, though this club's acoustics can't compare to our bathroom's."

Mina laughed.

Kenneth returned to the thought uppermost in his mind. "Mina, who is this Jeffrey?"

Mina began toying with the bottles on the vanity table. Her reflection in the mirror spoke of some preoccupation. Reluctantly, she said: "Just a man who wants to marry me."

"Very natural of him. He's rich, I take it?"

"Why do you ask?" she asked idly.

"I'm interested."

"You are?" She perked up, though he couldn't understand why.

All of a sudden, the subject of their conversation butted his way into the conversation when he swung Mina's door open. "Mina? Oh, Mr. Pencil, how are you?"

"Since you saw me two minutes ago, I've developed a migraine," Kenneth replied civilly. "And it's 'Penn', not 'Pencil,'" he added, annoyed that this man he'd already taken a disliking to should muck up his new name.

"Yes, yes, of course it is. May I see Miss Atkins in private?"

Before Kenneth could give an icy rejoinder, Mina replied for him. "Whatever you have to say to me, Jeffrey, can be said in front of Ken."

"I wouldn't want to intrude on a lover's tryst," said Ken, rising to go.

"Of course that's not what this is, Ken. Now, get on with it, Jeffrey."

Looking as if he thought a 'lovers' tryst' was exactly what this was, Jeffrey frowned over at Ken before sitting in a third chair.

"Mina, this has plagued me day and night, every hour, every minute, every second—"

"Oh to be an idle gentleman without occupation," Ken dryly said.

"I can't eat nor sleep nor—"

"Speak?" Kenneth muttered so no one could hear.

"—nor think of anything but you!"

Mina smiled, but made no reply except: "This is getting old, Jeffrey."

"I agree!"

She shook her head. "You won't when you hear what I have to say. No matter how much you 'prep' me for the idea of marrying you—like with the 'visualize our wedding' thing you've been doing—I just … I can't—" She stopped.

"What is it, Mina?"

She'd glanced in Ken's direction, only to see that he was walking towards the door. To her annoyance, she saw that the expression on his face was one of abject boredom. In an effort to grab his attention, she desperately exclaimed—"Oh never mind that, Jeffrey; your visualizing exercises might have been just the ticket!"

"Were they?" Jeffrey asked, awed at his genius. "Then you'll marry me?"

"Am I to congratulate you on your renewed engagement?" Ken asked emotionlessly.

With his perfect timing, Zachary burst into the room, then stumbled dangerously, hanging on to the doorknob for dear life. "Ken, congratulate me! I'm engaged!" He turned to Mina, who had exclaimed "Zach!" upon his entrance. "Hi there, Mina. You can congratulate me, too," he told her graciously.

Exhaling, Kenneth drew a hand through his platinum-blonde hair. "Zachary, who's the deluded girl?"

Drunkenly, Zachary seated himself in Jeffrey Harding's lap. In a fierce voice, he shooed the millionaire away. "What are you doing sitting in my seat? Geroff! She's sooo PRETTY, Ken! Big blue eyes, shy, but she's ready for marriage, I know it!"

"But does she?"

Mina jumped out of her chair. "You're not talking about Amy Anderson are you?"

"Yes! That is … I don't know her last name, but that sounds likely."

"Ken, she'd never in a million years agree to marry Zach!"

"HEY!"

"We've got to stop them. Oh no, this is awful, she's the manager's daughter and really proper and—"

"Enough." Kenneth strode towards Zachary and, taking him by the arm, yanked him off Mr. Harding and dragged him over to the opposite end of the room. With swift, admirable motions he opened the closet door, tossed Zachary into it, closed the door, and propped a chair against the doorknob.

"Sorry Zachary," he called through the door.

The multiple responses were censor-worthy.

Mr. Harding pulled himself up to his full height, and chest puffed, announced his intention to buy Mina the biggest, brightest engagement ring she'd ever seen.

Kenneth darted a look at Mina, and he realized: contrary to what he'd believed, she had never been engaged to Mr. Harding. He hadn't been insisting that she renew the engagement—he'd been insisting that she agree to one in the first place.

Mina had never agreed to an engagement—until now…?

"I'll go at once!" announced Mr. Harding. Mina floundered with her words.

Kenneth stepped in smoothly. "My congratulations, Mr. Harding. By the way," he said, "do you own a charming orange and blue Rolls Royce?"

Mr. Harding's brows furrowed in confusion. "My Rolls Royce is black…"

"Oh." Kenneth looked thoughtful. "Not anymore."

With a yell, Mr. Harding raced out of the room, talking about 'those damned teenage valets.'

Mina frowned over at Kenneth, a touch of hope in her eyes. "Ken, what…"

Ken drew close to Mina, pressuring her closer to her vanity table, so that he had her cornered.

"You do know polygamy is frowned upon?"

"Wh-what?" she asked, eyes wide.

"And you could have at least chosen someone less … stupid."

"Ken, what are you—"

"I can't have my wife marrying just anybody."

Her head snapped to attention. Clearly, he'd shaken her, though he couldn't say why. He soon learned though. "So you … didn't sign the papers?"

She didn't know? She hadn't learned that he'd never signed the divorce papers, and instead consigned them to the alley dumpster?

"I never had any intention of divorcing you."

Those few words set her off and into his arms once more. "Oh, Kenny Penny!" she cried.

"I preferred Ken Penn."

"Yes, but that was your name twenty minutes ago. Times adapt, dear." She pinched his cheek for good measure and her husband, who never blushed, was on the verge of doing so, even forgetting to correct her ill-spoken idiom. "One minute I'm a nightclub singer, and the next, your wife!"

"You were always my wife," he admitted.

He realized too late how caressing the words sounded. Before he could regain his masculine stone-like façade, Mina had wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pulled him towards her. He gripped the table edge with both hands. Hungrily, a need fueled by a month of separation, he kissed his wife again. Absent were the gentle, shy butterfly kisses his confession had suggested. Instead their embrace was raw and passionate, his lips working at hers, crushing them, and melding them to his. The taste of honey and light filled him.

"Oh…" she breathed from ruby-smeared lips. "I should run away more often."

He smiled, left one more searing kiss on the corner of her mouth and backed away.

"Mina…" he said in a serious tone. She answered her name with a pair of melting blue eyes raised enquiringly to his. "I can see the advantages of living here on your own and singing like you've always wanted to. Life with me isn't going to get significantly better than it is right now, in spite of Mr. Coleman's promises. So if you say the word, I'll disappear."

Immediately his arm was treated to a healthy slap. "What the hell, Ken! Don't get all noble on me. As if I want anything better! Actually, it sounded to me like you were the one cheered by not having me around."

This befuddled him. "What?"

"Lita told me about how after I left you just went about your business like your wife never existed. How you kept going on fun trips for conferences in the Bahamas and…"

"My darling nitwit, there were no conferences," he told her, very much amused.

"There weren't?"

"I was traveling all over looking for you. But since I told people you were tending to your sick grandfather I couldn't tell them the truth about what I was actually doing."

"…oh."

"Now that that's cleared up… can I ask you something? You might be more an authority on this than I am."

She caught the twinkle in his green eyes and grinned. "Ask away, sweets."

"Would you say I'm within my rights as a husband if I ask you not to marry Mr. Harding?"

She thoughtfully tapped a finger to her chin. "That's hard to say…"

"Oh COME ON you two, make up completely and LET ME OUT!" yelled a voice from the closet.

In unison, the man and wife swung around to look at the door. "Zach?"

"It's not the tooth fairy."

Ken approached the closet. "Are you sobered up?"

"As a fudge. Judge."

"And you promise not to harass that Anderson girl anymore?"

"I wasn't harassing her," he proclaimed indignantly.

"Zach…"

"Okay, I promise. But d'you think she'd maybe come out to dinner with me some time?" he asked hopefully.

"No," snorted Mina, but after Kenneth raised his eyebrows sternly at her, she immediately corrected herself. "I'm sure she would, Zach."

Within seconds, the chair had been pushed aside and Zachary zoomed out and out again, this time out of Mina's dressing room.

"Christ, it never ends," Kenneth muttered. "Mina, we're staying at Zach's cousin's apartment on 22nd street. Come by as soon as you can." She melted at his crooked smile.

Then frowned. "Aren't I going with you now?"

"Have you forgotten about Mr. Harding? Someone's got to break it to him. Let him down gently, 'sweets'" he teased, dropping one last kiss on her lips. Frantically, she deepened the kiss, adding a little French persuasion into it as a way of convincing him to just sweep her off ASAP.

"Mina!" cried out a scandalized voice. The couple jumped apart, startled faces lit by the cold moonlight seeping in through the window.

Mr. Harding swayed dramatically in the doorway, hand clutched to his chest. "With… with your own COUSIN!"


End file.
